A/N: Another long chapter (for me), longer than the last one, and again ambitious. The response from reviewers to last chapter was so positive that I stopped worrying you guys would find a long chapter boring. This chapter is a definite M for adult themes and one extremely embarrassing adult conversation. I wanted to write something about Mills & Boon here for everyone who has asked me about them or has no idea what I'm talking about, but since this chapter is so long, I thought I'll wait till next chapter.
This chapter launches straight into dinner, because there is a lot to get through.
Chapter 7
"Favorite color?"
"Black."
"That's not a color."
"Fine then, blue.
"Favorite movie?"
"Don't have one."
"Come on, Damon. You have to have a favorite movie."
"I don't watch movies. I don't have time."
"I hope you're going to make time when we get home. I like movies."
She wanted him to watch movies with her? That would be different, Damon thought, though not entirely unappealing.
"Okay," he said with a shrug. "We're not talking romantic movies though are we, because they're kind of sappy and lame."
She rolled her eyes.
"They're not lame. They're mind numbing fluff that I happen to enjoy."
"What's you favorite movie then?" he asked her.
"Uh-uh, tonight's about you."
"What, I can't ask what your favorite movie is?"
"Fine. It's Pretty Woman," she told him.
"Pretty Woman?" he frowned "Isn't that the movie where Julia Roberts is a prostitute?"
Elena flushed a soft pink remembering how she'd told him last night she thought of herself as a whore.
"Yes, but it's…it's like a fairytale."
"A fairytale?"
"It's about a man rescuing a woman, and she rescues him right back."
He was clearly puzzled, judging by the expression on his face, but Elena didn't want to delve into anymore detail. This night was about him anyway.
"Do you play an instrument?" she asked now, trying to move the conversation along.
"A little bit of guitar, and I used to play piano."
"The piano?"
Somehow Elena just couldn't see it, though Damon did have long fingers that she imagined would skilfully master any instrument they played.
"My father made both Stefan and I learn piano when we were younger."
It was impossible not to notice the way his voice hardened a little when he mentioned his father.
"What was your father like?" she asked him softly.
"My father was an exceptional businessman."
She waited for more information but no more was forthcoming.
"And as a father?" she prompted.
"From as early as I can remember, I was being groomed to take over the company from him. I was seen as the heir to his fortune and therefore a lot was expected of me. Any undesirable behavior I displayed was seen as weakness which needed to be eradicated as soon as possible. While Stefan got handshakes and box seats at sporting events, I got beatings and extra schooling."
Damon stopped for a moment and remembered the beatings he'd experienced as a boy, as well as cruel and unusual punishments for behavior that most would consider normal for a child. His father had expected perfection from his firstborn and anything else had been unacceptable. He tried to close the floodgates to the memories. He didn't want to stroll down memory lane tonight.
"My God, Damon, that's…that's awful,"
He didn't need or want her pity. He'd spent enough time as a boy feeling sorry for himself. It was the past. Besides, he was who he was today because of his father. He was tough; he was a survivor, and he would never have known what he was capable of surviving if it wasn't for Giuseppe Salvatore.
"You're too soft, Damon. You need to toughen up," his father would tell him.
He hadn't believed him at the time, but hadn't time proved over and over again that when he let his guard down, he made mistakes. He'd made a mistake by trusting his employee. He'd made a mistake by trusting Katherine. Now he was being forced to trust Elena and let her in.
He didn't want to let her in at all. He wanted to keep the door firmly shut between them, but she'd edged it open a fraction and he had no choice but to trust her a little. The definition of insanity was doing something the same way and expecting different results. Things weren't working between them. She was miserable, and so he was faced with a decision; either he let down his guard, or he'd lose her. She was staying because he'd threatened her. She was his because he'd blackmailed her. But what happened when or if she called his bluff? What happened when her misery and grief drove her away, or made her sick? He didn't want to lose her.
He didn't understand how this woman had made him need her. His father would consider him weak and foolish for wanting another human being, but being with Elena made him feel less lonely, and as much as he wanted to push her away and say he didn't need a darn thing, some part of him was telling him to hold onto her and never let go. So here he was, doing his best to take down some of the carefully constructed walls that he'd built because it was required, and take a leap of faith. It was not a comfortable feeling.
Right now she was looking at him as if he was a small fragile boy. He didn't like it.
"I got my own back for a while," he told her. "As soon as I turned eighteen I left home and went to college. I bought a motorcycle, bedded every woman within a hundred mile radius and partied hard enough that it reached the papers. My father was naturally enraged." He smiled now remembering how angry his father had been. "He threatened to cut me off and disown me, but my mother wouldn't allow it."
Elena could just imagine Damon riding a motorbike and sleeping his way through an entire population of women. Yes, her husband was a very experienced man indeed. She didn't even want to try and guess at his number of conquests.
"What was your mother like?" she asked him now, trying not to imagine Damon in the middle of an orgy with half a city.
"My mother was normally a softly spoken woman who enjoyed being a wife and mother. She allowed my father to have his way most of the time, but there were times when she stood up to him and let her fire show. They were few and far between though."
"In other words she rarely got involved between you and your father?"
"My father was somehow able to convince her that his way of dealing with me was the best way. I could see sometimes that she wanted to disagree; that she wanted to go against him, but she was deeply in love with him and she came from a family where women did as they were told, and that included following their husband's orders. My father's compromise with her was that they would have another child, one that she could coddle and baby as much as she wanted to."
"Stefan," she said quietly.
Elena understood all too clearly that love and affection had been withheld from this man as a child. Her heart went out to him. Not only had his father been physically and emotionally brutal with him, from the sounds of it, but his mother, who should have been there to nurture and protect him, was unable to do so due to some misplaced sense of wifely duty. Then he'd had a brother who had swooped in and freely been given everything that had been withheld from him. She could feel tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She looked down and fidgeted with her serviette, desperate to get herself under control.
Was it any wonder, he didn't place much value on love. She wondered if he had ever really experienced love, unconditional or otherwise. How could that not affect him? Don't give love and don't worry about not receiving it. Then when he had finally taken a chance and opened his heart to someone, Katherine, things had ended very badly.
"You still ended up at the helm of Salvatore Industries. I'm surprised you didn't turn it down after everything," she said to him, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.
"I wanted to," he told her. "I refused at first. When my father was dying I told him I didn't want it. My mother, however, pleaded and begged me to take my inheritance. She told me that I had worked too hard and endured too much not to take what was rightfully mine. She was so distraught that I found myself agreeing just to silence her. On the day that I agreed to take my place at the top, my father passed away. His last words to me were, "Don't let this be another one of your disappointments, son."
She was speechless. What was she supposed to say to him? She had been afraid to get to know him better, and on an instinctive level she had known why. Delving into the dark recesses of Damon's mind, as he had phrased it, she was fast learning that Damon Salvatore was a complicated man, a difficult man, and a man that needed to be loved even if he didn't know it. The realization hit her like a blow to the chest.
Everything about Damon had screamed danger; danger and sex. Even on her wedding day, she'd known she should get the hell out of there. But it was too late, she'd married him, she'd agreed to give him a second chance and get to know him. And here was the problem, she'd known as soon as the hate was gone, as soon as the resentment had vanished there was just a man in front of her that was capable making her feel far too much. Her falling in love with Damon wasn't a choice. It was going to happen. And when she did fall in love with him, she finally really understood that he may never love her back, he may not be even capable of loving her back. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest.
She looked at him to find him watching her, waiting for her reaction to his words. His face was tense and she could only guess at what it was costing him to tell her. She imagined he didn't tell many people about his relationship with his father.
"I don't know what to say, Damon," she told him honestly.
He shrugged.
"From the first day I took over from Dad it felt right. I've never looked back. He prepared me well for the role."
Elena wanted to disagree with him, she wanted to tell him that his father had been heartless and cruel to deprive his son of warmth and affection, but obviously could not. It made her question his thoughts on children. She knew several men who had experienced turbulent relationships with their father, and said they themselves would never become parents because they didn't want to turn out like their fathers. Obviously Damon did not fit that category.
"Why do you want children?" she asked him, hating how blunt the question came out but needing to ask it anyway.
He sipped at his wine and took a moment to think about her question.
"I suppose I've always seen children as part of my future. I'm thirty now, and I want to have my children and enjoy them. I don't want to be too old or tired or sick to run around and play football with them and do all the stuff that matters."
"You said you wanted an heir when you offered this marriage."
"It's true I want someone to take over from me, but I want children for the simple pleasure of having them."
"What about love?" she asked him.
"What about love?"
"You said love is an emotion you can do without. Will you love our children?"
She felt heat bloom in her belly as well as a strange sense of anticipation and excitement at the thought of having children with this man; of carrying his child inside her.
He smiled; a very tender smile that she had never seen him wear before.
"Yes, Elena, I will love our children. Falling in love with someone is completely different to loving a child."
She agreed with him but she wanted to know more. "How so?"
"Falling in love with someone by its very definition means the whole world tilts off its axis while you are increasingly blind to every one of their flaws, and are so consumed by them you can barely think straight. Loving a child is a healthy, normal feeling that allows you to adequately care for and protect your child."
"Do you have any intention of grooming your firstborn for the role they are going to take over?"
"If you're asking me if I have any intention of acting like my father, the answer is no. I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for him, but I have no desire to repeat his parenting in anyway."
She nodded, happy enough with the answers he'd given her. At least she could feel confident that he would try and be a different father than his dad, and that he wouldn't withhold love from their children.
"So that covers colors, movies, musical instruments, family and children. What's next?" he asked her.
Elena mentally moved down the brief list she'd thought up today. Her next question was more of a topic that she was not looking forward to bringing up. It was very intimate, and more than a little embarrassing. It had to be asked though. It should have been asked before, but she'd put it off to avoid talk about them sleeping together. She tried to think about the best way to phrase it before she decided the best way was simply to just to come right out and say it.
"Are you clean?" she asked, unable to stop herself from blushing profusely.
"Am I clean?" he asked, his confusion clear.
"You're obviously very experienced." She felt her face becoming even hotter. This was so embarrassing. "You've had countless bedroom partners. I need to know if it's safe to go to bed with you. Am I going to wind up with an STD if I sleep with you?"
"Oh," he said, finally understanding what she was asking. He smirked and she felt relieved he wasn't angry or offended she'd asked him. If anything he looked ridiculously at ease considering how awkward she felt. It made her wonder just how many times he'd had this conversation. "Well I would be lying if I said I always practiced safe sex when I was younger, but as an adult I've always worn protection and I have myself tested fairly regularly."
"When was the last time you were tested?"
"Before we got married."
"Do you have the paperwork?" she asked him, aware that her face was probably the same color as a tomato, but pressing on regardless.
"Yes, but it's at home. As in my home in America."
She nodded.
"What about you, Elena, are you clean?" he asked, lips twitching, eyebrows raised. "Can I trust you?"
"I'm clean," she said without any hesitation.
"When was the last time you were tested?"
"A week before our wedding," she told him. "I've…I've only had two sexual partners."
Elena groaned inwardly. Why had she told him that?
Damon sighed quietly with relief. If she had had herself tested before their wedding, then that meant she hadn't picked something up from Stefan. Damon was quite sure that his brother probably hadn't worn a raincoat when he slept with his other women. Pleasure was his brother's number one priority and Stefan had told him that he didn't sleep with women if they made him use a rubber.
"Does it bother you?" he asked her.
"What?"
"The fact that you've only had two lovers. You said it very defensively."
"No," she answered quickly. "I mean, it's just that you've obviously had so many and…" she trailed off, not knowing what she was saying and feeling her face turn pick again decided she should just keep her mouth shut.
"Does my experience bother you?" he asked.
"No," she said, but when he looked like he didn't believe her, she decided to be honest. "It's a little overwhelming," she admitted.
"If it makes you feel any better," he said to her, "when I'm with you I feel as fumbly as a virgin," he admitted.
"Fumbly? Is that even a word, Damon?"
"I'm not sure, but you get my drift."
It was her turn to smirk. He hadn't had to tell her that, but the truth was it did make her feel a little bit better. He was looking at her now, and it was such a knowing look; such a sexual look, that she found herself reaching for her wine and chugging down a good portion of it. Both of them were thinking about sex. This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid by not bringing this conversation up sooner.
The rest of their dinner passed quickly. The wine was free-flowing; the pasta incredible, and the conversation riveting. She asked him questions until he eventually smiled at her, told her question time was over, and said he wanted to take her home.
She didn't complain; not even when he kissed her goodnight so passionately that her legs stopped working and she stumbled back to her bedroom. She'd asked him most of the questions on her list. It wasn't until she brushed her teeth and crawled into bed that she realized that she had forgotten to ask him about something very important; Katherine. She would have to ask him about Katherine another time.
The next morning they were up early to explore some of Italy.
"Three days is nowhere near long enough to fully experience Italy and all its magic, Elena. We'll have to come back here when I'm on holiday so I can show you some of the big sites," Damon told her as they drove out to Tuscany.
Elena couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that she would miss the big tourist attractions, but Damon said he wanted to show her some of his favorite places and it pleased her that he wanted to share them with her.
The first place he took her to was a vineyard in Tuscany, owned by friends of his.
"No, Elena, watch me.'
Elena watched as he swirled the glass in his hand before literally sticking his nose inside the glass and breathing in. "You try," he told her.
Elena did as he had shown her. She moved the glass around, swirling the dark red liquid, and then feeling a little bit silly she put her nose in the glass and inhaled deeply.
"Mmm," she said to him, not sure what else to say.
"Try again. Take quick full sniffs and tell me what you smell."
"It smells like wine," she told him after repeating the action.
"What else can you smell in there?" he asked her.
She felt like she was failing an exam. She again put her nose in the glass and tried desperately to find the answer.
"There is no right answer. You can say whatever you want when it comes to wine-tasting. What's the first thing that comes to mind?"
"Wood," she said to him. "Like oak. It smells woody,"
He smiled now and she felt like she'd just had a star put on her school report.
"What else?" he asked her.
"Chocolate. It smells a little bit like chocolate."
He nodded, evidently enjoying the fact that she was trying.
"Okay, now take a sip and swill it in your mouth. Then open your mouth and breathe through the wine."
He stopped talking and demonstrated. After he swallowed, he said to her; "We could spit it out, but that's a waste of perfectly good wine."
Once she tasted the wine she totally agreed with him. She couldn't believe she was drinking at ten in the morning, but she was enjoying it regardless. They sampled multiple bottles but Damon stopped swallowing after a while to remain sober enough to drive.
"Okay," Damon said after she started giggling a little, "I think we should finish up here."
By the time they hit the road again, Elena was feeling just a little bit tipsy, and as she leaned back into the leather seat of Damon's Ferrari, she found it more than just a little bit difficult to not watch her husband. She wondered how he would react if she put her hand on his thigh just to touch him.
He looked at her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking because his sunglasses were too dark for her to see his eyes, but he was smiling at her, and the sun was shining on him, and Elena thought that no man should have been made that beautiful. She shifted in her seat all too aware of how her body seemed to react to his so strongly. She smiled briefly back at him before turning to look out her side of the car. She wondered if once she slept with him, her head might clear a little and she could think about something other than having sex with her husband.
For lunch he took her to a pizzeria.
"Oh my God, Damon this is the best pizza I've ever had."
"I know." Was his simple reply before he wiped a bit of sauce off her lip. She blamed the alcohol for what she did next. Her tongue darted out to lick the sauce off his finger, and she watched with both excitement and fear as his eyes darkened with desire.
In the afternoon they went on a bike ride through the hills. The countryside was like nothing she'd ever seen before and the air so warm and fresh, she couldn't help but enjoy herself. Damon pointed out various places he'd been to and visited. In the late afternoon he pulled out a picnic basket filled with cheeses, olives, semi-dried tomatoes, wine (again), fruit and bread and they had an early dinner. She allowed him to feed her several times while he told her more about his college days, and she couldn't stop laughing as he filled her in on some of the antics he got up to with Mason back in those days.
When they arrived home, Elena should have been exhausted by her day out, but instead she felt exhilarated. She'd laughed, tried new things and very much enjoyed the company of her husband. Damon. Just thinking about him made her skin flush and her excitement mount. She felt as if she had been in a semi-state of arousal all day. So when he suggested that she go upstairs and change into her bikini and join him in the pool, she had agreed, thinking she couldn't sleep at the moment anyway, and a swim might relax her a little and help her wind down.
Once dressed, she stood at the side of the pool for a moment and watched Damon swim laps, his powerful body ploughing through the water easily. As if sensing she was there, Damon stopped right in front of her.
"Are you getting in?" he asked her. The question sounded innocent enough but felt more like a dare.
As soon as she used the steps and walked into the large pool, she realized her mistake. If she'd wanted any relief from the desire she was experiencing, she would get none in here. His eyes locked with hers and he walked towards her. When he was standing right in front of her he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to him.
"Damon," she cried out.
"Yes," he said softly. His eyes lingered on her lips. She pushed away from him.
"Race you," she said to him, frantically swimming towards the end of the pool. The adrenalin had kicked in, and as she raced towards the wall she felt her heart hammering. Beside her she felt him move past her easily, and when she got the wall he was already there. Damn.
They both stared at each other.
"Looks like I win," he said to her, "what's my prize?"
"What do you want?" Elena asked him, pushing her wet hair out of her face.
"You do realize what a dangerous question that is for you to ask me?"
She gulped. She knew what he wanted. But for the first time since they were married, she felt like they were on the same page. It was inevitable; it was irresistible, and she needed him so badly that she could not imagine getting through tonight without giving her body what it needed.
"I want to be dangerous for once," she told him.
And then she was in his arms and he was kissing her so slowly, and with so much heat that she felt as if her body might explode into flames at any moment. As his tongue dipped into her mouth, she moaned and moved into him, finding it easy in the water to wrap her legs around him. The hot hard length of him pushed against her aching and sensitive core. He groaned and moved against her. The friction was so erotic, and so not enough to satisfy her.
He broke their kiss for a moment to untie the string around her neck holding her bikini top up. As it fell down she felt the breeze on her bare breasts, felt her nipples harden in response, saw his eyes darken, and moaned as he brushed his thumbs across the taut peaks. Her body jerked in response, thrusting against him. His hard length rubbed against her again, making her need that much deeper; that much stronger.
He dipped his head and captured one of her nipples in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before turning his attention to her other breast. Her head went back as he feasted on her. 'Fumbly' he was not. One hand stroked her breast now as the other hand moved down to cup her sex, caressing her through her bikini bottoms. He moved the material aside, so he could touch her better. He gently played with her, caressing and stroking softly at first, then faster and firmer, sliding his finger inside of her. She stopped moving altogether, drawing in short shallow breaths as she felt the sensations in her body building, her heart beating uncontrollably as she closed her eyes and waited for the release that was so close.
"Oh God, Damon," she cried out, her hips jerking spasmodically as her orgasm crashed over her. He covered her mouth with his, kissing her deeply. She could barely breathe when he wrenched his mouth away from hers.
"I need to be inside you, Elena. Now." Anyone else would have heard those words as a demand, but she heard his question.
She clung to him, feeling completely and utterly liquefied after that orgasm.
"Yes," was all she said to him. He studied her face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but she knew he would find none.
"No regrets?" he asked her.
"No regrets," she answered.
How could she know what she would feel tomorrow? She didn't. What she did know was that she needed him; wanted him more than her next breath. He had awakened a burning desire and hunger in her that she was still getting used to, and she hadn't learned to control it yet; she hadn't learned to resist her need for him. And so willingly she resigned herself to falling head first into this experience of going to bed with her husband.
He released her, and she wondered for a moment where he was going before she watched him pull himself out of the water with little effort. Sitting on the side of the pool, he held out his hand to her. She swam over and gave her hand to him, letting him pull her out of the water. He stopped for a moment to give her a particularly bone melting kiss, before he stood up and picked up a discarded towel on a pool chair and slung it over her shoulders, attempting to dry her a little before he picked up a second towel and wrapped it around himself.
They hurried inside, her body still hot and aroused from his touch, her insides still aching for him. They barely made it more than two steps at a time without him grabbing her and kissing her.
He led her into his bedroom.
"Should we shower first?" she asked him.
"Can't wait," he told her, the undisguised raw need in his voice sent a fresh wave of pure lust slamming through her.
She let her towel drop to the floor, and watched as his gaze raked over her, heating every inch of her flesh. Her bikini top was still hanging on underneath her breasts, so she unhooked it at the back and let it also drop to the floor. Whenever she had thought about their first time together, she imagined herself filled with nerves and overcome with shyness. Now though, she was filled with so much desire for the man in front of her that she felt no inhibition. She proceeded to slide down her bikini bottoms and step out of those so that she was naked and ready for her husband.
"I can't wait any longer either," was her reply.
Then his hands were on her and his mouth was on her, possessive and hungry, and all she could do was feel; feel how much she wanted this, how much she wanted him. She put her mouth to his shoulder, brushing a kiss there, before letting herself taste his flesh, loving the way he said her name so roughly when she did something he liked. She stroked his upper body with her hands, before flicking her tongue over one of his nipples and blowing on it. She was rewarded with his quick intake of breath.
She hadn't even been aware Damon had been moving them towards the bed until she felt the mattress behind her knees. She fell backwards. Damon followed her onto the bed. He kissed her deep and hard on the mouth before he licked and nipped his way down her body. She trembled, when he licked around her navel, and couldn't help the small moan that escaped her as his mouth moved lower and lower still, until he was between her legs giving her a far more intimate kiss. She tried not to twist and buck, as his tongue worked her back up to a climax. She looked down her body to see him looking back at her, as he did exquisite things to her with his tongue. She came harder this time, and when he re-emerged he was wearing a look of pure male satisfaction.
"I need you," she told him desperately, because it still wasn't enough. Now that they'd started she didn't even know if she would ever have enough of him. After two orgasms tonight her body felt even hungrier for him. She reached out to grab him, relieved that somewhere along the way, he'd shed his own shorts. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked him, stopping only to collect his pre-cum on the palm of her hand so she could rub her hand up and down the length of him more easily. He stopped her quickly though, putting his hand on top of hers.
"God, Elena, I won't last. You have no idea what you're doing to me."
It was the first time she'd ever heard him sound so pressed for control and she liked very much that he was so affected by what they were doing. He knelt on the bed beside her and opened the top drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a condom. She was surprised for a moment, before she remembered their conversation from last night. He was using protection because he thought she needed proof he was safe.
"It's alright Damon, I trust you." He looked surprised for a minute, before putting it down. She did trust him, she realized, but she also wanted to feel him inside of her. "I don't want anything between us," she told him.
He gave her a hot lingering kiss before he positioned himself between her legs, and Elena wrapped her legs around his hips, and waited for him to enter her. No matter how much she had thought about the moment, or felt she was ready, nothing prepared her for the swift emotion that lodged itself in her throat as he thrust into her powerfully, joining them so completely. The emotion of finally having him inside of her, of everything she'd felt for him up until now, combined with the physical pleasure he was giving her, made her close her eyes. She wanted to shut out some of the intensity she was feeling but the way he was moving inside of her made her feel everything so acutely; inside her heart, inside her body. She felt the tension in her body mounting and felt her muscles start to squeeze around him. They came together as he thrust into her and cried out her name. It was such a shattering feeling that Elena was surprised to find herself still in one piece at the end of it.
When he withdrew from her, she felt very cold. Noticing her shiver, he tucked her in against him and pulled a blanket over them. Neither Damon's body heat, or the blanket, however, could shut-out the cold she was experiencing. Her question had been answered. Sex with Damon had been absolutely positively shattering, and she wouldn't hesitate in the slightest to do it all over again.
A/N: That talk about STDs almost killed me. I think it's the most embarrassing thing I've ever written, but Mills & Boon always cover safe sex, and I wanted to be true to that.
Thanks to all my readers and reviewers. It's been a tough job getting this chapter out today, but the response to last chapter was again overwhelming and inspiring (I know you guys hear that all the time, but it's true). Thanks for reading and please review.